I love the spring, as the hedgerows turn light green

I love the spring, as the crocus push their way through the discarded needles

I love the spring, with the hanging suicides amongst the catkins

I love the spring, with the overdosed lying amongst the daffodils and narcissi

I’m growing to dislike the spring, with its unrealistic optimism

I hate the spring, as it reveals the elderly that have died of hypothermia

I hate the spring, because it highlights all the ugliness around us

I wish that spring could be more realistic in its vision of the future